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Monthly Archives: October 2016

I am reading the same words when Lou Reed started to sing. But this time, I am not at the shore anymore. I am in my room. Slouched but leaning back too much. Book atop my stomach. I am not alone anymore. He’s reading in my bed. Legs hanging, feet slightly touching the floor. Polite hesitance.

Sometimes I feel so heavy. Sometimes I feel so sad. It’s like the same moment but in totally different circumstance. Carlo Rovelli says:

There is no such thing as a real void, one that is completely empty. Just as the calmest sea looked at closely sways and trembles, however slightly, so the fields that form the world are subject to minute fluctuations, and it is possible to imagine its basic particles having brief and ephemeral existences, continually created and destroyed by these movements.

He was talking about quarks. But I know nothing about physics. I know serendipity, however.

Our love felt like a silent movie for all the wrong reasons. There were no words, only vague body language and clear expressions that do not reflect the anguish of the heart. The silence was unsilence. The ambivalence of our lips over the chaos in our chests. If fire was set over our bodies, it would be easier to know the truth behind our lifelessness. It’s bad but at least it’s true. And we know. Nothing hurts worse than silence when there shouldn’t be.

“I really believe that, in time, people will bloom. I believe that we really are bound to be amazing at something and we do not even have to try.”

On this day last year, I wrote those words on my journal. When I read them today, I felt a slight pinch in my heart. There were tears too but they didn’t come out.

I am writing here in a restaurant on a cliff, overlooking the sea. A bit scattered, I must say. While being away from home really makes me more centered and insightful, it really takes a while. But I do feel less all over the place now. Ironically, I’m leaving tomorrow. Nonetheless, this island has been so good to me.

For the past days, I just did things that I authentically like. I did yoga, sat in cafés to read and write, stayed in bed and just listened to music waiting for the sun to be less harmful so I can read by the beach. I wore clothes that make me feel a lot like myself, too. It’s nice. I went here with no real plans but I’m fine. Pretty well, actually. On September 30, I wrote: I wish people feel this feeling in my heart. At the right time. Everyone deserves to be loved by themselves.

Come Tuesday I will go back to work. But as the semester is reaching its end, I can say that it doesn’t feel like work at all. I teach Philosophy, if you may ask.

I’m dead sure some hippie already said this but let me say it again. Your demeanor towards the Universe will boomerang back to you.

For some weird reason, I always come across things that tell me, this is to be succinct, to just stay where I am. Do not struggle. Work with your essence. I have come across the Taoist concept of Wu Wei which means do without doing. And just yesterday, Barbara told us to stop stressing over something we cannot do and then compare ourselves to those who can. Because after all, those people went through a lot to get to that point and we have no idea about their process. I also read about this Tao notion, Uncarved Block. Ultimately, the question it seeks to ask is this: Why do we put square pegs on round holes? That is to be simple and childlike, though.

With all the changes that’s happening around and within me, I do have a vague sense of who I really am. And I can confirm this when I feel genuine happiness, contentment, and pride from doing things I chose for myself. You know, that feeling you get when you make a decision without actually thinking through it and it turned out to be such a good one. Yes. That.

“Do not think too much.” Sanchia told me while we were cruising around Chiang Mai in our bikes back in August. I liked that. There’s a level of comfort there. That after all it’s possible not to think too much and remain fine. Perfect, I must say.

I do hope that one day, we all choose to stay with who we really are. But sometimes if we get too detached, the world will forsake us because it is problematic and it needs us to solve its problems. In the process, we might get too jaded.

But you know what’s good about staying still and afloat with your core? You know your way. And you’ll be fine.

I’m feeling good and I thought I should just write. Let’s see what comes out of this.

I woke up early today. Relatively early, I must say. Around five minutes past six. The island life feeling is still clinging onto me. Maybe that’s the reason behind this body clock change. I went on a lone trip to an island in Central Visayas, here in the Philippines. It was frightening but oddly comforting.

I had no real plans. I just packed my bag, brought my yoga mat, and hopped on a plane. Most of my time there, I spent reading, writing, and just people-watching. It’s a small beach town so everything is near to each other and the stunning beach is for everyone. I sat at cafés. There’s this one that’s ran by a French man and they serve lovely black coffee. Another was on a cliff, overlooking the sea. And my favorite was the one that’s near the shore. They have great organic breakfast food and vegan ice cream.

I also joined a few yoga classes in the island. The experience is totally different from my usual practice here in the city. The shala was in the middle of a garden. I joined one sunset class and then a morning class. Fireflies joined our practice during the sunset class. It was a very small class of only four people, that includes Barbara, our teacher. It was funny because none of them spoke my language so we communicated in English in our distinct accents. Except maybe for Jade because she’s from England. Monica came late but her energy just filled the entire space as if it was just waiting for her presence. I asked her where she’s from. She said, Peru. I asked her where she’s based. Nowhere, she answered. She was just travelling around. I like that. Apparently, she’s actually a yoga teacher and she trained in India. She told me to train in India when the time comes. I would love to.

I woke up at six in the morning, every day, while I was there. Everything was so nice. However, I could not fully let go and just roam with a free mind because I also try my best to be vigilant considering that I am alone in an island that I’ve never been to before. But I’m fine. I did great and I think I would do it again. Maybe this time, in a surf town. I’ve heard great stories about Baler.

It’s really nice to be a stranger, I realized. But being a stranger doesn’t really mean that I am detached and completely different. I feel like there is some strong connection between humans even if you do not know each other. As if there’s an invisible string that connects us all together. That there is something so universal about us. Our hearts and the sameness of the good things these hearts yearn for. And that tiny flame in my chest when I resonate with the stories of the people that I just met. It’s like hearing stories from old friends. The anticipation, the excitement, the I-was-right-all-along feeling.